A Little Slice of Nordic History
by A Whimsical Dream
Summary: A collaboration story between myself and Shironess. Historical Fan fiction.


**Hey, an little bit of an authors note! This is co-written by Shironess, the wonderful person who wrote, "Convulsions" This has not been beta'd so... yeah... Please rate and review, if you like it, even to give some criticism. Criticism does not mean flaming.**

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In 1340, Norway had begun to fall ill. His whole entire body had begun to ache as he tried to calm his heavy panting. Unable to calm his breath, he gazed up to the one single mirror in his chamber. Noticing large blister-like bumps that had formed on his neck, where, just the day before had been irritated and red.

In a panic, the small male tried to will away the aches of his joints and limbs. Longing to go to see if his beloved friends were also afflicted with this... curse was what he had been aiming to do. Body protesting his thoughts of going to find Denmark, Finland, Iceland and Sweden, as the drive to do so died off sending him, weak and prone back to bed.

Crawling into the comfort of his bed, mattress of straw covered by a layer of fine fur, laying on top of that layer, he pulled a second layer of animal furs over himself, to block the sudden attack of freezing cold he felt. It was as if he had just been thrown overboard into the arctic sea, on a winter day.

Quietly, the small male began to "speak words of nonsense to himself, trying to decide on if he should start to call for one of the others. Making up his mind, he raised his voice a bit. "Danmark? Søren? " He called, beginning to shiver, as he waited for a response, but heard none.

Raising his cover again after horror passing through his steel blue eyes he tried again. "Søren? " He very well nearly screamed, and after a few moments of anxious waiting with no response, he jumped when the door swung open. Looking up, the small nation looked up to see the spiky-haired blonde he had been calling for, as steep blue orbs met sapphire.

The tall male lunged forward towards the other, seeing the distress written across the usually stern face. "What's the matter?" He bent down, stricken with worry, and placed his hands upon the other's shoulders. He could not remember a time when he had seen Norway in so much pain.

Denmark could feel his heart thunder against his ribcage as he waited for the answer; What could have possible caused this?, He thought.. "Nor? Nor? Hello. What's the matter?" He leaned his face closer to the other making certain eye-contact.

Noway had seemed perfectly fine just the other day; He was healthy and in the mind to scold Denmark for his constant jokes and other antics. Now, the other stood before him pale. It was clear in the slow movements of the other that, whatever was wrong, it was something like no other.

"Nor... Are you... Diseased?" The other asked with hysterics written in his voice. Suddenly, all the compassion and tender care had vanished and he drew himself away as if Norway were on fire.

"I... Danmark.." The smaller male began, mentally flinching as the other had just so suddenly flinched away, and seemed so hysterical.

"I think that I am." Norway finally stated, still looking at the other, trying to keep from feverishly shuddering and drawing back to the covers of his bed again, but the idea was cut short, as he covered his mouth, and began to cough, the coughs thus seizing his frame making it shake and shudder as he tried to ease the fit.

Denmark watched the other in both disgust and sympathy. He wasn't sure whether he should run to the others side or to leave the room. There was an internal struggle for him; had it been an ordinary economic crises he might have helped, but this was a disease. By helping the other, his own population and people would be threatened; perhaps entirely wiped out.

"W-why don't you go back to bed? I'll have Sverige bring you something." He held his hands in front of him, as if to let the other know to not approach him. Denmark's breath was rapid and heavy as he backed away. He gulped audibly; jumping a little as his back connected with the door.

However, he still hesitated as to whether or not he should leave. He was very fond of the other nation, his beauty was breath-taking as was his people, but he feared for his own safety.

His gaze clearly avoided the other and once he heard the other move, he quickly threw the door open and dashed into the hallway.

Staring dejectedly, the small Norwegian was left alone, the one person he had actually thought would have cared, even if he was diseased had left him there, struggling to regain his breath, and he shuddered. He wanted nothing more then to say that it probably was something he ate, some sort of reaction. But, he knew that even he himself didn't know how he had caught it. It was probably on his last raid at that damn Pirate's place.

He wished, oh how he wished that the other had not just run away. For once. For once, Norway desired to be comforted by him. Making his way back to his bed, he laid down. Staying in bed until he realized more then half of his people had been killed. Which left him weak. Barely able to do anything against an attack if it were to happen.

And so, the years passed, and it was now 1397. The Three Scandinavians and their territories stood, making a pact, a series of personal unions to each other in Kalmar, Sweden. This was the start of the Kalmar Union.


End file.
